Sect Year 2 · third month · day 2 · the western road, the Wastes’ edge
The hired cart left the capital before the Archive bells had finished the morning. It was a tall square box on two iron-banded wheels, with a canvas roof gone brown at the seams, and its carter said nothing at all until the city gate was a grey line behind them. Pei sat on the bench beside him with her feet tucked under her and a folded sheet of paper across her knees. Su rode alongside on a borrowed grey mare, her book buttoned into the sleeve of her coat, where she could reach it without giving up the reins. Lin sat in the back on a sack of oats and watched the copy hall’s roofs sink behind the rise.
“She could have come,” Pei said, without turning round.
“She has the roll.”
“She has the roll in a room with a lock on it. We have a cart.” Pei tapped the folded paper with one finger. “She said she wasn’t finished copying. She said that to you.”
“She said she wasn’t sure yet that the roll was hers to copy.” Lin shifted on the oats. “That is a different thing, and I think she meant it.”
